I Want You
by SageK
Summary: Prompt: "I don't want a blanket, I want you." (Taken from Aristophanes' "Lysistrata". Because ancient Greek comedy gives me Blam feels.) Submitted by: blamagotchi at the Blam Bang


Maybe it was the whiskey they'd been sharing (Cooper seemed to have decided being a good big brother meant being a bad influence and had taken to sending Blaine care packages filled with alcohol), but Sam was pretty sure he'd never seen anything more adorable than the sight of Blaine curling up in a ball and whimpering, "I'm cold!"

Sam chuckled. He thought the room was pretty comfortable. They'd been sprawled on Blaine's bed for hours, talking about…well, he couldn't actually remember but it didn't matter. Anytime with Blaine was a good time.

Turning onto his side, he rubbed Blaine's shoulder briskly and said, "Well, dude, get under the blankets then!"

"You're warm," Blaine murmured, wiggling forward under Sam's outstretched arm. "Don't want a blanket. Want you."

That made perfect sense. The blanket would take time to warm up and Sam already had a surplus of body heat. Plus, Blaine's plan had the added bonus of cuddles, which were pretty much Sam's favorite thing ever…platonic or otherwise.

"You can have me," he replied happily, pulling Blaine's unresisting body flush against his own, the smaller boy's face nuzzling against his throat. For a moment, Sam contemplated the best way to get Blaine warm, then shrugged and wrapped him in a tight embrace, slinging a leg up over his hips to get them as close together as possible.

Blaine murmured happily, sighing against the skin of Sam's neck, hands, one trapped between their bodies and the other at Sam's flank, fisting in the fabric of Sam's T-shirt. In the back of Sam's mind, he wondered if it was weird that he liked the fact that Blaine fit against him so well, sturdy and strong but small enough for Sam to enfold in his arms.

He'd been vaguely aware of this for a while, knew that when he tossed an arm around Blaine's shoulders it was like finding two puzzle pieces that went together. Neither had to bend or stretch, they just fit together, snug and perfect.

The hug in the astronomy room though, that had been something else entirely. He knew his emotions had been all over the place and he could barely believe Blaine had gone through the trouble to make that video for him, but, in that moment, he wanted to hang onto him forever.

Small as he was, Blaine was strong and he'd returned the embrace fiercely and Sam felt loved. Usually, when he tried to communicate his feelings through hugs, when he tried to let his girlfriends know just how much he adored them, he let go with hurt in his heart. He'd never met anyone outside his family who could communicate warmth and so much more through an embrace.

Not until Blaine.

So yeah, he'd taken the opportunity to hug Blaine more since that day. As both of them were recovering from broken hearts and took comfort in the human contact it happened a lot.

Screw anyone who thought it was strange. Sam could totally cuddle with his best bro, sling an arm around his shoulders in the hall, hold his hand when he got that sad look in his pretty brown eyes….

Sam was self-aware enough to know he was slow on the uptake sometimes. He knew he was emotional and had trouble dealing with things that affected him deeply. The most recent example of that had been when he had a mini-breakdown over his SAT's and the implication that the only thing he was good for was looking hot. It was an idea that had been festering in the back of his head for a long time and had bloomed into full fledged crazy really quickly.

Blaine had been the one to pull him back from the ledge, helped him accept the fact that tests didn't mean everything. Sam knew that, really he did. Dyslexic or not, he worked damn hard and his grades weren't that bad this year. Standardized tests just made his head spin and Blaine said he should have asked for accommodations before taking it.

So, when he had a burst of insight, he tended to roll with it. Usually, it meant his brain had finally processed a whole bunch of information into something that made sense.

He liked Blaine.

_Like_ liked him.

It was a surprising realization, but not upsetting. Contrary to what people assumed, not all folks who were proud to claim blue collar, country roots were ignorant or bigoted. Sam had been raised to believe love was love and he had no problem with the idea of having feelings for a boy.

He did however have a problem with the fact that he didn't want to lose his best friend if his feelings were one sided.

Now he had a dilemma.

Nothing cut neatly through a buzz like a shock to the emotional core and Sam sighed, deciding that he would try to figure out what to do in the morning. Maybe he'd call his mom and dad for advice.

For now though, he just let his cheek rest against Blaine's fluffy hair (Fussy or not, he washed out the gel before bed) and closed his eyes, again murmuring, "You can have me."

He just hoped Blaine wanted him in the same way.

Thankfully, being a morning person was an Evans family trait and Sam awoke shortly after seven, crawled carefully out of bed without waking Blaine and locked himself in the downstairs bathroom with his cell phone.

His mother answered after two rings. "Sam, sweetie! Good morning!"

"Hey, Mama," he said softly, feeling comforted just hearing her voice. "How's everyone?"

She clearly knew something was up. "We're fine. How are you?"

"I'm… In love with my best friend and have no idea how to deal with that."

"Oh, baby," she sighed and Sam could hear his father's muffled voice behind her and she responded, "Sam's just figured out that he's in love with Blaine." Another muffled comment. "Well yes, we knew, but he's only 17. We can't expect him to have everything figured out as quickly as we do."

"How did you… You knew!"

"Of course, sweetie," she said gently. "We hear so much about Blaine it's like we've met him. And the way you two look at each other…."

Sam blinked. "How do you know how we look at each other?"

"I'm Facebook friends with Brittany," his mother said and Sam could hear the smile in her voice. "I like her. She's fun."

"She is," Sam agreed, then tentatively asked, "So, you think Blaine likes me?"

"Son, that boy looks at you like I look at your momma," his father said, clearly having commandeered the phone.

"How did I not know this?" Sam groaned and listened to his mother wrestled the phone back from his father.

"17-year-old boys are known for being overly perceptive about such things," she said bluntly. "Now, do you want to tell him how you feel?"

Biting his lip, Sam said, "Yes, Mama, but am scared. What if he's not ready or doesn't want to get involved before he heads off to New York or…."

"Ask yourself this, baby; Do you think loving him, having him love you could be worth the risk?"

"Yes," he breathed softly and again could picture his mother smiling over the phone.

"Then you know what you need to do," she said simply. "We love you, Sammy. Good luck!"

"Love you too," he replied, wrapping up the conversation. It was their habit not to say goodbye, as goodbyes only lead to tears and if Stevie was around, he'd cry until he threw up.

Taking a deep breath, Sam washed up, brushed his teeth and wandered into the kitchen, making a cup of coffee for Blaine and some orange blossom tea for himself. He carried the mugs up to Blaine's room and watched in amusement as Blaine stirred at the first hint of coffee in the air.

"You brought me coffee in bed?" Blaine mumbled, clumsily sitting upright. "That's it, marry me?"

Sam laughed, trying to keep things light. "Usually, I'm the one asking that question."

Blaine fidgeted a bit. "Yes, well, maybe it was time someone asked you."

Sitting crosslegged on the bed, Sam mused, "I want a fall wedding."

With a laugh, Blaine teased, "Oh, but you haven't said yes yet!"

"I'm a traditionalist," Sam commented, sipping his tea. "I expect at least one date before proposal."

"Once again foiled by the conventions of society," Blaine sighed dramatically and Sam grinned.

"Well," he said quietly, gathering up his nerve, "If you really wanted to ask me something, you could ask me on the date."

Mug raised to his lips, Blaine froze, huge eyes peering at Sam. "What?"

"Ask me out," Sam repeated, braver now that he had said it once. "If it makes you feel any better, I'll say yes."

"Want to go to the planetarium tonight with me?" Blaine blurted in a rush, then cringed. "Oh God, does that sound lame….?"

"It sounds awesome," Sam assured him and Blaine smiled.

Neither of them proposed after the first date, but two years later, on a snowy Saturday morning, Blaine awoke to the smell of fresh coffee and pulled a ring out of the bedside table.

Sam said yes.


End file.
